Chevy Stevens - Still Missing

No kidding.

For the last few days I’ve been hiding out in my house and using candlelight at night. The closet hasn’t been an issue, because I haven’t been sleeping. I haven’t even gone for a walk—most of the time I cuddle with Emma and cry into her fur.

Once I got in my car, revved it up a few times, called my mom from my cell phone, and made a bunch of static noise. I told her I was okay but I was driving and my phone was cutting out so I couldn’t talk. Least that part wasn’t a lie—I was barely able to say hello without choking from the effort of keeping everything inside.

When I checked my e-mail, Christina had written that she hoped the time away helped and that I felt better when I came back. “I’ll miss you,” she wrote. She signed the message with xxx’s, ooo’s, and a little smiley face icon.

The next day I spotted her car heading down my driveway and wrapped my hand around Emma’s muzzle before she could bark. Christina walked around outside for a couple of minutes, then drove away. When I looked out I realized she’d picked up all the newspapers that were cluttering the doorstep. I felt like such a jerk.

Gary called to tell me things were progressing and he appreciated my cooperation. I wondered if he was excited about closing in on the “bad guy.” He’s a cop for a reason.

I didn’t tell him I was still planning on coming to my shrink appointment today—he would have just told me not to—and I was glad I hadn’t canceled when he called around eight this morning to tell me they finally located the other maid at the hotel. And yes, she did remember the woman wearing sunglasses—the car was so big and the woman was so small, she had to struggle to push the car door open.

“I know what you’re thinking, Gary, but there must be…Shit, just give me a minute here.”

“I’m really sorry, Annie, but all the evidence is pointing to your mom. We’re just waiting for her bank records before we bring her in for questioning. Meanwhile, we—”

“But you don’t know for sure it was her at the hotel. So it was a small woman, that doesn’t mean—”

“It was a small blond woman, Annie. The maid never got a license plate, but the car was bronze-colored, just like your stepfather’s, and she identified a photo of your mother.”

My blood roared in my ears.

“But I told you, my aunt looks like her and she drives a Lincoln, it’s the same color as the Caddie. Maybe she’s working with her stepbrother and that’s who tried to grab me. He could be blackmailing her—fuck, I don’t know. But he’s still out there and if you just talk to Wayne, he’ll tell you Mom had nothing to do with this.”

“When we’re ready, we’ll bring Wayne in.”

“When you’re ready ? What the hell are you waiting for, me to go missing again?”

“Annie, I understand you’re frustrated—”

“I’m not fucking frustrated , I’m furious. You guys are totally off track. If you’re not going to do anything, then I’m going to talk to Wayne and—”

“Get yourself hurt? That would really help, wouldn’t it?”

“Wayne’s not going to do anything to me, he’s an idiot but he doesn’t have a violent cell in his body. Wire me if you’re so worried.”

“This isn’t a Law and Order episode, Annie, we don’t wire civilians, and you’re not trained for this—say one wrong thing and you screw up the case you’re so anxious to solve.”

“Please, Gary, for a whole year I couldn’t do one damn thing up there to help myself. I need to be a part of this. I know Wayne. If Mom told him anything about her stepbrother, I can get it out of him.”

“Sorry, not negotiable. You’re just going to have to be patient. I have to head to court now, I’ll call you later.”

“Okay, okay. ”

I glanced at my clock. Eight-fifteen a.m. In two hours Wayne would be sitting down alone at the diner he goes to every morning when he doesn’t have a job, which is most mornings—Mom never goes because she’s usually sleeping off her hangover. Yeah, sure, I’d be patient, for about an hour and forty-five minutes.

Most of the morning rush at the diner had cleared out, but the scent of bacon grease still hung in the air as I slid into a booth right in front of the window.

A waitress came over with a note pad and pencil. The pencil had teeth marks in it and her nails were chewed to the quick. Like mine. I wondered what made her nervous.

“What can I get you?”

“Just a coffee for now.”

“Oh, I know you—you’re Wayne’s daughter, Annie, aren’t you? How you doing, sweetie?”

The tape recorder burned in my pocket. What the hell was I doing here? What if Gary was right and I screwed everything up?

“I’m fine, thanks.”

“Wayne should be in any minute. I’ll tell him you’re here, okay, hon?”

“That’d be great.”

She brought the coffee, and no sooner had she left my table than I heard the door jingle. I couldn’t see over the booth unless I stood up or peeked around the side, but I didn’t need to do either.

“How’s the best-looking waitress in town, Janie?”

“Just fine, handsome. Guess who beat you here.”

My stepfather came around the corner of the booth.

“Holy crap, Annie—what are you doing here? Your mom said something about you going on a holiday.”

The waitress came back with another coffee. Wayne sat down across from me.

I said, “I had to go talk to the cops again. That’s why I came back early.”

He nodded and stirred his coffee.

“They have some more information about the guy who abducted me.” He lifted the spoon mid-stir.

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“Maybe we should get some air,” I said. “It’s hot as hell in here—why don’t we get coffees to go, then we can sit in the park?”

“I don’t know, your mom’s going to be up soon and I was supposed to bring her a pack of smokes.”

“We don’t have to be all day, I just don’t want to go home yet. Got your cards with you?”

“You want to play?”

“Sure, but let’s go to the park. I need to get out of here, smells like someone burned some toast.”

I paid our tab, Janie got us a couple of fresh coffees to go, and we headed across the street to the park. I found us a picnic table in the shade, away from the other ones. Wayne shuffled the deck. I tried to remember our ever doing anything else together, alone.

“To be honest, Wayne, it wasn’t an accident I ran into you.” He paused with the deck in hand, about to deal. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Yeah?”

I kicked Gary out of my head and plunged. “The cops think Mom had something to do with me being abducted. Someone saw a car like your Caddy at a hotel where that guy was staying, but I think—”

“Lots of people have cars like mine.”

“I know, but apparently the maid’s description—”

“The cops have it wrong.”

I stared at him. He stared at the cards.

“Look at me, Wayne.”

“Thought you wanted to play—”

“Just look at me.” He raised his head slowly and met my eyes.

“Do you know something?”

He shook his head.

“Wayne, they have a warrant , they’re getting Mom’s bank records.”

His face paled.

My voice was calm but my ears were roaring again.

“Does Mom have something to do with this?”

For about five seconds he tried to keep eye contact. Then he put his head in his hands, and I saw them shaking.

“Wayne. You have to tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s all fucked up, so fucked up.” He was mumbling. “Shit, what a mess….”

“WAYNE!”

Head still in his hands, he shook it back and forth.